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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752304">Atlas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesesols/pseuds/Hesesols'>Hesesols</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Angst [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bleach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, author does not condone book burning, vaguely adultery vibes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:02:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesesols/pseuds/Hesesols</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day <b>6</b> of Ichiruki month 2020</p><p>He is weightless only with Rukia.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Angst [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ichiruki Month!</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Atlas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The book in his hands is old. Gilded letters have faded with time but the spine held- pages as crisp and sharp. The dust is thick enough to make his nose itch but he blows off the heavy layer, fingers tracing the title.</p><p>
  <i>The Twelve Labours of Heracles.</i>
</p><p>He reads on until they are almost at the end. Heracles on the last two legs of his penance, and he on the last few pages of the book. He turns the page over and in the Gardens of Hesperides, his fingers still.</p><p>Brown eyes land on the illustrated figure of Atlas.</p><p>Poor hunkered down Atlas, bent on one knee, shoulders straining, chest heaved- son of a Titan, a God in his own right enslaved willingly. His hands hold up the weight of the Heavens, shoulders tense and back hunched from the weight. It renders him mute and gray. A lesser man would have balked but he rises up, stands tall despite the burden.</p><p>Lines blur. Hero and Giant, Demigod and Titan. Have the two always been so indistinguishable?</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>"They're here!"</p><p>Orihime's excitement is infectious and palpable as she pokes her head through the door. His fists clench, closing the book with a dull thud and resolves to burn it later. The door to his personal study shuts behind them with a soft click.</p><p>He looks at the laden feast and smiles as he greets his old friends by the door.</p><p>He smiles just like he's practised in front of the mirrors. After the war, he learns to fake enough of them to get by, learns how to consciously choose the decisions that don't come easy to him, learns to put a stop to his yearning and learns to tell his heart to stop.</p><p>He is still smiling when they turn to Chad's televised match on the screen. Ishida couldn't make it but there's no surprise there- there's always the next <i>happy</i> get-together at the Kurosaki's to look forward to. His wife's warmth is almost stifling when she takes off the apron and slides next to him. Kazui settles himself on his lap. Grey eyes- so innocent and wide; his own little family looking so happy and loud as they traded stories, catching up with friends.</p><p>Yet he looks away. He wants to be anywhere but here, and Rukia is looking everywhere but him.</p><p>At the back of his mind, the story of Atlas stays.</p><p>.</p><p>Devoid of fire, of life- is this the life of a hero or a prisoner?</p><p>And he wonders-</p><p>He wonders-</p><p>He wonders-</p><p>The wars all blur into one hazy dream of blood, sweat and tears; and all that he remembers is falling, despair and Rukia. He looks down at his hands- how much longer and how much more of him does he have to give. To the victor, goes the spoil. So why does victory taste so bitter and sharp, like he is swallowing glass and catching his tongue on the serrated edges?</p><p>The price for peace, Ichigo wonders, has it always been so steep?</p><p>Maybe at times the end doesn't justify the mean. By winning the battle, they've lost the war and in sacrificing their happiness- they might have inevitably doomed their world.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>In the dead of the night, he comes alive. Though barely just.</p><p>When everyone else has gone to bed and it is only Rukia- only ever Rukia- who turns to him with her hands outstretched and waiting, quiet resignation in the lines of her face and snatches of bare skin, silvery and bright under the glow of pale moonlight, peeking through stolen linen- human sin wrapped up in the dreams of a lost boy, too young to bear the weight of the world; and meets his gaze with a forlorn look of her own.</p><p>"Was it worth it, Ichigo?"</p><p>.</p><p>Was it worth it playing martyr?</p><p>Was it worth it to lay down arms and be made into this caged bird?</p><p>Was it worth it to sacrifice all that they had, all the brightness that they once were for this?</p><p>Was <i>this</i> worth it?</p><p>Was it wor-</p><p>.</p><p>He stops thinking; surges up to wrap her in his arms and his poisoned kisses. He's earned it, he thinks. He deserves this much at least. If only for a minute, he is a free man and there is nothing holding him down.</p><p>The weight of the world is momentarily forgotten and he is enduring no more.</p><p><i>Yes</i>, his heart breathes- light and breathless, <i>for you, a thousand times over.</i></p><p>
  <i>Yes.</i>
</p><p>.</p><p>His body splinters.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt: <b>i see you fall to pieces like a hero</b></p><p>Kudos to <span class="u">AriadneKurosaki</span> for the lovely summary.<br/>All aboard the angst train. I swear every time I try to write canon-verse fanfic this is what I end up with. *smh*</p></blockquote></div></div>
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